Playing with Fate
by Winnehkitteh
Summary: Dedicated to Mari. This is a story of what Fred decides after his death. His search for lost love and the consequences as he plays with fate.
1. After

This was only meant to be a drabble, but somehow it extended into something else! This story is dedicated to the lovely Mari, who is the BEST Fremione shipper I know. I hope she, and anyone reading, enjoys this.

Fremione. Requested by: xcali-mari

Fred opened his eyes to a blinding light. The last thing he remembered…was dying. The thought jolted him awake. He was sitting up right, in what looked like his own joke shop, doused in white and clouds. George…he had left George all by himself.

"Great, he loses an ear and I lose a life, nice job." He shook his head, he would not let the sadness of this situation get to him, although, without really knowing, his eyes were wet.

"I don't think I've seen you cry before." It was _her_voice. Hermione's. Her hair was still bushy, her front teeth still a little big. She was still the same age, but she was, herself. Something that Fred admired, long before it was gone.

"Hermione…what…what are you doing here?" He asked, he knew for a fact she wasn't dead. She was too smart, too brave to die.

"Well, you're right. I'm not dead. This place shows our most deepest, hidden desires before we move on…there's no going back for you." Hermione's smile was sad, and Fred got up, wanting to take it away.

_I want to make her laugh. _

"So Fred, is there anything, anything you need to tell me before you go on, or else, I wouldn't be here."

Fred stared at her intently. "Are you the real Hermione? You can't be, you can't be…you can't be…dead…not like me anyway."

Hermione's smile was sad once more. "I am real enough for you."

Then, the most deepest desire Fred had kept hidden, the one he joked away from himself, the desire that kept him up at night, came from his lips as surely and as confidently as he would have killed to say them when he was alive.

"Hermione I love_you_."

As he said them he felt light. Almost too light. He was looking at Hermione, who was not beaming but still upset. Her eyes glistening.

I wanted to make her laugh.

"Hermione what's happening?" He screamed, yelling against the force that was taking him away from his Hermione. He had finally said it, and now he was leaving.

"You finally said it Fred, and now that's gone, you can go now, wait for the people who love you." She was still sad, not a laugh in her.

"Hermione I don't want to wait, I don't want to go, I want to stay with you, make you laugh." He cursed himself, why was it so easy to say it now? "Besides, you can't make jokes in heaven." He was still going away, the only thing visible was his waist up.

"Fred, don't say you want to stay." Hermione walked closer to him, her hands outstretched, almost wanting to touch him.

That look in Hermione's eyes, her eyes always being her weakness, gave Fred the answer. "There's one thing that's missing though, something that needs to happen…"

Hermione's eyes widened, scared. "No Fred, no, don't say it."

"I need to know if the real Hermione can love me too."

"No Fred!" This Hermione, a projection of Fred's desires extended her arms, trying to catch him, but the swirling mist had engulfed him before she could. The world was spinning, and the sound of home began to surround him. Home. Where George would be. Where Bill, Charlie, Mum, Ginny, Harry and Ron would be….where Hermione would be.

If he could get there.


	2. The Loss

The first thing that happened was the every growing smell of the ocean. A dull smell, that couldn't possibly be the real, a smell just enough to tease you so that it drives you slowly into insanity. Of course Fred didn't know that yet. His diluted senses began to feel a soft overflow of water against his skin. In his ears however, there was nothing. Fred slowly opened his eyes to a pitch black night, and, as he became more aware of his dulled sense, he knew looked solid, and felt solid, but he also knew no one, could ever see him.

"Quick Fred you have to come back." It was _her_ urgent voice, Hermione's, and it echoed around Fred repeatedly. However now that Fred was here…wherever _here_ was, he could hear that this voice was too perfect to be the real thing, to light and airy to ever be what he wanted.

"Why can't I hear anything but you?" This sentence bought a smile to Fred's face, as his mind drifted into the summer he and George spent on extendable ears, funnily enough, because he had secretly wanted to listen in on her conversations.

"Fredrick Gideon Weasley, you have to come back." At the final syllable, the projection-Hermione of Fred's desires appeared (a good thing too because he had a sneaking suspicion his Mother had shown up), looking more far away then he was, still doused in that white, cloudy light, she was there, and Fred...Fred was somewhere else.

"I have to see them, I have to know." He was determined, as Fred had only ever been once in his life (when he and George were sneaking ordering forms for their joke shop behind his Mother's back). He didn't look at this projection Hermione; her voice did not match the still bushy-haired, large front-toothed image she was holding, an image he loved best.

There was a pause, only the warmth of the white light, and his desire to be in that light once more, the only sign that she was still there. "Your senses are dulled because you don't belong here, and they are there to warn you that you shouldn't be here. Some, who have chosen what you have, go mad, because they believe they can almost feel, and that idea, destroys them."

Fred looked up, and Hermione's face was inches from his own, her sad eyes the worse he had ever seen them. "'Mione." He whispered, trying to touch her face, only to have his hands fall through her.

Her sad eyes grew stern. "You have a day, to complete whatever it is you feel you _need_ to do. If you can't do it in this one day, earth will take you, not as a ghost, but as a soul, and a torment far worse then the one you will experience will stay with you."

Fred's determination did not waver. He had to see his family, he had to see George, and he had to _know_. "Will you stay with me?" He asked stonily.

Hermione's image and her voice began to fade. "Only to warn you, and to try and keep you." In the last moments before projection-Hermione faded, there was a soft smother of a cry, not as a sound, but as a physical object that pounded Fred's chest. "You won't be able to hear Fred, not very well, because part of yourself lies with George and well…" Then she was gone.

As soon as projection-Hermione's dazzling light vanished, the dark scenery of the beach was what clouded his vision. The dry, cold sand, a long shadow stretching across the shore, a dark ink like substance lapping against the shadows. Fred stood up; the water he was sitting in did not attach themselves to his sweater or his jeans as they would have when he was alive. He began walking, slowly at first, watching behind him in vain if the sand would follow him, it didn't. His mind however began to follow Fred, unlike the sand or water would. The beach, the familiarity began to dawn on him. Shell Cottage. He wandered if it was still guarded, but a warm fire-glow greeted him before he could question it further. He ran this time, feeling like this was home as much as it ever could be compared to The Burrow. Shell Cottage was as he remembered, small and somewhat claustrophobic. He grew excited as bodies began slowly drifting around inside the cottage. As he got closer, ignoring the grave of Dobby, he began to see faces that pounded his chest a lot worse then projection-Hermione could. His patient Mother sat vacant-like on the kitchen stool, her watery eyes imploring someone's that were not there. He missed her, and wanted to tell her how sorry-yet-not-sorry he was for all the pranks he pulled, all the jokes he made, at this point he was even willing to re-start his education to get a job she saw fit. He wanted to scream or pound against something, but he could not hear himself, and earth-things would not let him touch them. Next came Ginny, red-eyed and almost inconsolable, shakily placing tea in front of her mother. Fred however was not sparred a moment to grieve for his only sister before Ron, red-faced pounded down the stairs. Fred's inner thoughts thought Ron looked like a red-haired tomato, and knowingly how much he missed him.

Fred wished he could hear, but Ron was yelling and possibly cursing so fast that he could not comprehend anything. Everyone jumped at the slightest indication Ron made towards the stairs. Ginny, Fred saw tried to calm him down, but Ron became redder, and redder. However, with a flash of bushy hair Hermione had pounded on Ron. _Hermione_, Fred could not describe what he felt. He felt elated, yet heavy, joy and then anger. He just wanted to make her _laugh_. Though that seemed impossible, as her face was stern as she yelled, tears spilling over her golden lashes, and dried-sticky tear streaks evident on her face that seemed she was too lazy to brush them away, or her tears were so innumerable that she didn't know when she was or wasn't crying. Fred moved as close to the door as he was allowed, even though his hand could fall through it, he could not past it. He wanted to scream, but what good was screaming if you couldn't hear yourself? _Why did I come_? He thought bitterly. Just as he was about to slump, to give up as determination evaded him, the door burst open knocking him flat on his back and Ron stormed out, fuming, waving away something Fred could not hear. As the door was held open he made a run for it, narrowly being able to get inside. The inside of the cottage felt no different to when he was outside, and it began to torment him. On his stomach, and face towards the door, Fred watched as Hermione stepped away from door and slumped against it, letting it close, oblivious to any intruder who had found his way in. After a moment, everything became as it was, an almost solid inconsolable dread. Fred could not take his eyes off Hermione. She the reason he was here, in this almost hell. Fred watched as Hermione said something under her breath that he could not read and continued to watch as her sobs began to shake her body. Every single one of his loved one's had fallen, and he could not pick them up, only watch as they were crumbling.

"Help me." He pleaded to no one in particular.

"They'll live, but you can't." It was projection-Hermione's voice, as she answered after a pause, but it felt so much like the real-Hermione's voice, that Fred had to stare at slumped Hermione, wondering if she could see him.

"Hermione, I'm here, right here." He called to her as he sat up and moved closer to her. Fred longingly wanted to touch her, but thought against it.

"I love you Hermione, please just hear me." A silly thing to ask since he could not even hear himself.

However, as Hermione's eyes darted upwards with fear and some admiration, he felt the weight of words as he had when projection-Hermione had let out a sob. A strong emotion so close to his heart that could enable him to _feel_ words, rather than hear them, and they could only come from one person, a person that was a part of himself, and these words felt strangely familiar.

'_Freddie, you okay?' _

This time, he'd give anything to be able to answer with a no, and it was with this he realised, time was passing.


	3. It Begins

No. That was Fred's answer, because there was no more time and the words left unsaid would remain so. Fred turned, watching his brother through half-lidded eyelids weighed with pain. _'Georgie….'_ Fred watched the other part of himself, looking so eminent, so alive as if Fred was truly there, yet so lifeless, like there was a sane part of George that knew Fred was never coming back.

_"Ah mate, look worse then Great Aunt Tessie, and that's saying something."_ The joke was hollow and his voice was a dull, weighing like a ton of bricks.

Turning back to Hermione, who looked so destroyed, Fred was reminded of the exact weight of those words that had risen in Hermione's fifth year and Fred's last. Throughout those months of those precious secret DADA meetings, Fred's small crush hade grown into something irresistible, to which George had picked up on it in no time. That fateful question had been uttered entirely by accident. Ron and Hermione were up to duel each other, Fred placing the bets. He smiled at her, secretly encouraging her, like a _friend_ should. At least that's what he told himself even when a feeling of pride and strong attraction had risen right after she had beat Ron, a feeling that took a blow when he saw her turn and smile at Ron, but that didn't stop him staring at her with hurt in his eyes.

"Are you alright Freddie?"

It was in those words that Fred finally realized that George knew; that secretly his brother was telling him there was time to tell her, that there would always be time. It was a hope George had placed in Fred, right up until the moments until he died.

It was a lie. Time always runs out, and it was in this, remembering what was and looking between Hermione and George that his first hour was up.

"Now George you go right to bed, I'll fix you a good cup of tea and I'll put you to bed."

"Mum!" Fred could hear, her voice was soft and gentle, a voice Fred remembered she used long ago, when they were little and had decided to read 'A hairy heart' in the 'The Tales of the Beedle the Bard' because they thought they were so brave, only to be scared out of their minds that Mum had to stay with them all night, with a tray of constantly warm tea.

"The closer you are to your brother, the more you can hear, not because of George himself, because you're ready to listen…with this." Fred couldn't see projection-Hermione, but he could feel her. Her warm glow had touched his heart and he stepped forward, somehow missing something that had come from his own head.

"I'll take him Molly." Fred paused. It was Hermione, the real Hermione's voice. It was soft, yet powerful and filled with sadness. Could she had realised she had lost so much within Fred? So many emotions were running through Fred. He didn't know what to do with himself. A part of him wanted to cuddle next to his mother and have tea, whilst she knitted and told them they had a heart of gold, never a hairy heart. Another part of Fred wanted to walk alongside George, just like he always has. He wanted to hear George talk about jokes, pranks and a new idea that had crept slowly into his head during the sluggish day. Another part, a deeper part of Fred, wanted to look into Hermione's eyes, looking for even a trace of something that was enough for Fred to move on, because he knew he might not be able to handle the next twenty-three hours.

Hermione held George's hand, and somehow he reacted as he let Hermione drag him upstairs. Fred turned back to his mother, who suddenly could not remember how to make a brew she had made countless times in her life. With a heavy heart Fred stepped away from the stairs. Whatever was up there, he would face in the next hour, right now Fred needed his Mother.

"Alright mum, I know I'm a bit delayed but after this tea I'm blowing up a toilet seat."

…  
>…<p>

Fred felt like blowing up a toilet seat. He watched his mother try and fail twenty times to try and make tea. He wanted to hug her, and every time she failed he went to do just that, but the barrier was up again, and even though he tried again the twentieth time, he realised he would never be able to feel a mother's warm hug ever again. A clock stroked once more and Fred realise he had spent another hour. However, even though projection-Hermione called it a waste, he knew that he could have spent all his hours watching his mother and never regrets it. However, in that hour, his determination had invaded his mind. His thoughts constantly turned back to Hermione and the events that might be taking place. So as his mother retreated pass the stairs to bed, Fred finally walked upstairs.

"Harry won't see anyone, not even me. His locked himself up there, feeling guilty for everyone who's died."

"He'll come around, he always does, he knows we're here and he's got you Ginny."

"How's Ron?" Ginny asked after a pause.

"I had to put George in our room, I wouldn't leave him with Ron…he's a bit…touchy right now."

"He loves you Hermione."

Fred thought it would hurt, hearing it, but he was smart and knew that it had been Ron all along. Fred never had a chance, and he had always been a little grateful it was Ron. He would be able to look after her, even if along the way he had made wrong choices. We all do.

"Is there ever something you wish you could say, but never do because it's too hard." Hermione's voice was troubled; she wasn't used to having a tone of questioning in her voice. She always knew the answer, or believed enough in it that questions were not her forte.

"I think after this nothing is hard anymore." Ginny replied with a voice like stone. Fred knew that whatever Hermione was going to say next Ginny didn't want to hear it.

"I miss him you know…Fred."

A few sounds of a stifled cry came from Ginny. "We all do."

There was a pause and Fred finally climbed the rest of the stairs, to see that Hermione and Ginny were holding each other, comforting one another.

"_Always knew I was the better looking one." _

"We have no where to sleep actually." Hermione spoke at once, brushing away her tears as well as Ginny's.

"I know mum wouldn't like it but I can stay in there with George and you can stay with Ron."

Fred almost laughed. _"Over Mum's dead body…as well as my own."_

Hermione shook her head. "No, you stay with Ron. He'll listen to you and for some reason I'm the only one George is listening too at the moment. I might even get him to eat something."

Ginny nodded, hugging Hermione before she parted to the room across from them. Hermione took a deep breath but for some reason could find no energy to go inside the bedroom. Fred bit his lip, moving slowly towards Hermione, he stood next looking at the door Ginny had gone through not long ago.

"_I'm not going to say it again you know. I have a reputation to uphold."_ Of course Fred was referring to his feelings, and even though he had only said it twice, it took a lot out of him to say that he loved her. He moved closer to her though, without provoking the barrier that disabled any chances of Fred ever touching someone. This was enough for Fred.

"What are you doing then?" It was Ron's harsh tones that made Fred jump; because for a stupid moment he thought he was alive.

"_Stupid and dangerous,"_ came projection-Hermione's stern voice. _"Remember who you are Fred." _

"Ginny's in the room, I can look after George tonight."

"I didn't mean that."

Hermione bit her lip. "What do you mean?"

"You've been giving me this 'friend-vibe' ever since we've been here. Even…even on that n-night you comforted me like a friend, like I was Harry. What. Happened?"

Hermione took a deep breath and stared at Ron. "Haven't you been seeing what's happening around you? Your…our family is broken and I'm trying my best to get everyone through this. We haven't seen Harry in about a week, your mother can't even make tea without balling her eyes out and I'm not even sure if George is fully in his right mind, and all you can think about is still having a girlfriend?"

Ron looked at Hermione as if he'd been slapped. "More reason to need you Hermione, but I guess I'm not worth your time."

"Ronald! You don't get it. EVERYONE needs a friend right now, even you."

"That's what Harry is for, not what you are. I love you Hermione."

Hermione glared at Ron, but she knew that he needed it, and even she herself needed it.

"If you haven't noticed Harry isn't here," Hermione watched as Ron glared at her in return and slowly made his way towards the bedroom, away from her. "but I love you too Ron."

Ron didn't turn around however. He walked straight into his bedroom without another word. Fred turned back to Hermione who was staring down at the floor, not knowing what to do with herself. If Fred could, he would drag his tosspot of a brother and demand him to say it back to her.

"_Anyone is lucky enough to have you Hermione." _

Just like Ron however, she walked into her bedroom where George was without another sound, and even though Fred followed her in, he felt the door close as if he was still standing outside, staring at the floor, not knowing what to do with himself.

"I'm still better looking then him." He joked to himself, because it was the only way he knew to hide emotions that weren't normally part of his everyday life. Every Weasley boy was supposed to have the emotional range of a teaspoon.

"Goodnight Fred." mumbled George in his sleep, making Hermione sleepily get up from bed, and sit besides George's bed on the floor.

"He's not coming back George, not for you or me."

George, even though he was sleeping had found his voice. "He'll come back for you 'Mione."

'_Are you kidding me George?' _Fred wanted to slap him. _'I'm giving you puking pastilles in your sleep tonight.' _

Thankfully, before Hermione could truly question George, he had fallen asleep. Hermione watched George for a moment, before a sad, longing smile played on her lips.

"I'd come back for him too."

**Oh gosh, I hope that was okay. Please tell me I'm getting the characters down, and not making them something they aren't. I hope you like this chapter and reviews equal LOVE, which equals more chapters, I can't write without motivation. Please, if you like this story review or message me or even spread it around to friends or fellow shippers. Thank you so much. **


	4. Feathered Memories

"I'd come back for him too." Fred wasn't sure if he'd heard her right. 

What would Hermione come back for in Fred? She didn't love him back. Would she come back for a laugh? Come back to warn him against idiotic things such as projection-Hermione was? All of a sudden, he was _angry._

'_Hermione Jean Granger, how dare you say those things to me after I'm…gone! How dare you whisper to my brother the things you should've said to me! Her-'_

However, a question, a reason had evolved as quickly as Fred's anger had. Wasn't he doing the same thing? Didn't he selfishly believe there was more time? Maybe Hermione, as intelligent and intuitive as she was, selfishly believed there was always time.

As Fred watched her eyes glaze over with longing for her bed as she held onto George's outstretched arm he felt caged in a new restless energy. He needed to act, to do something. Now that he could hear, he could not waste important hours of his short second life. Hermione needed to _know. _

What if he touched something? He didn't know if ghosts could do that, since he'd never seen Nearly Headless-Nick do it, but Fred was something entirely different to a ghost, and it was worth a try. So far he had spent two hours doing nothing. Sitting on the end of Hermione's bed, he scanned everything in sight and nothing would do. He knew not one of those precious objects, would let them be touched by him.

'_Come on 'Mione, please, give me something.' _

It took a precious half hour, but when she finally stirred from her light slumber she moved, alerting Fred's full attention.

"Sh, sh, sh." She crooned to George's mumbling, and, as if stepping away from something delicate, she turned to her bed, sighing with relief as she fixed her pillow.

"FRED!" screamed George, as he kicked and fought his personal demons in his sleep. Hermione went immediately to his side, Fred following quickly, Hermione sat on the head of George's bed, stroking his head and mumbling the lines of 'A hairy heart'.

'_Bloody hell George, if I had a galleon for every time you screamed for attention, I'm tellin' you I'd be rich.' _

Turning back to Hermione's bed, placing George in her capable hands he sat at the head of her bed too, staring at the two. He never had placed himself in this position, only for prank purposes, but Fred couldn't help picturing George as himself, under the tedious care of Hermione. He would have soaked every minute of it. Fred turned his head sideways, grimacing at his thoughts.

'_I am not alive.'_

Then, a glint of gold under the small ray of silver moonlight demanded Fred's eyes. Under Hermione's pillow a small wisps of a golden feather with orange tinges lay perfectly on the sheets, under the pillow. It clicked to Fred, something he missed when Hermione had been on her bed for that short time, her hand slipping under her pillow, hiding her golden treasure of remembrance.

'_I- I didn't know you would keep it.' _

Suddenly, as he looked at Hermione with a mischievous, hopeful grin, the memory engulfed him as if he were re-living it.

_George had better consider himself, the luckiest man ALIVE, just because Katie Bell was sick did NOT entitle George to ask for his date. However, Fred realised it George that only had eyes for Angelina, whilst Fred was able (and quite willing) to dance with any girl his fancy. Maybe he was just LIKE that. But deep down he knew he was exactly like his brother George, who had eyes for Hermione. Not that he would admit it, or even acknowledge that it was growing, slowly and dangerously._

"_Ahem." A beaubaxton girl he had been dancing with called with forceful distinction, calling Fred's attention._

"_Yes love?" He winked._

"_I am part Veela, and I aaam n't used to dis, uh, 'spaceeein, owt.'"_

_Laughing at her pout and sour expression, Fred wiggled around in a circle, roaring like a lion. On his third turn and his repetitive loud roars, he saw her expression soften to a ghost of a laugh._

_After a pause, and a distracted fast twirl from Fred, she spoke again. "Yooh, sh'ld goh aaand t'lk toh h'r. She iz qu'te shall we say, prwety." The pretty beaubaxton girl pouted again, not used to giving compliments._

"_I'm talking to you aren't I?" winked Fred flirtatiously._

"_Ah, I gwt compleements l'ke dat aaall de time."_

_Fred laughed and rolled his eyes. "How very modest of you love."_

_The beaubaxton girl perfectly arched a knowing eyebrow. "I dn't fink she does thou'h, and eeif I was yooh, I vould gooh aaand t'lk tooh 'er." _

_Fred pretended not to know who she was talking about. "Who might that be exactly?"_

"_De girl, ov'r by de stairs, crying."_

_Fred whipped his head towards the grand staircase, to see a pink beauty sobbing alone. He ran towards her, without giving a second thought to leaving the beaubaxton beauty amongst the swarm of admirers. _

"'_Mione, did that FORGEINER do something to you?" Fred was immediately sitting by her side, she didn't even acknowledge him with her big, brown, wet eyes._

_She said nothing so Fred spoke again, more attentively and jokingly. "Did he get jetlag in the middle of the waltz? The __**nerve **__of him."_

_Hermione didn't laugh, but placed her head on Fred's shoulder, he straightened up with nervousness in return. "The stupid git Fred, he ruined __**everything! **__I just, don't get him._

"_I get it now; he dishonoured your whole family in one sentence." _

_Hermione huffed. "No Fred, it wasn't Viktor, it was Ronald."_

_Fred moved away from Hermione so fast her head almost fell to the ground. _

"_Fred!" _

_He was fuming. "My tosspot git of a brother did this to you? Don't you waste another tear Hermione I'll get him." _

_Hermione slowly moved closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm. Fred blinked, staring at his arms as if they were on fire. _

"_It's okay Fred." She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder again and shedding the last remains of her tears. _

_He sighed and removed his anger, like her tears, just for her. "Come on Hermione, you're smart, you shouldn't be crying over that git." He smiled at her but she refused to look at him. He lifted his shoulders. "Come on 'Mione look at me."_

_She looked at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes and he wanted anything to brush the streaks of messy tears away but he thought against it. "Hermione," he continued instead, "you are beautiful and you should never let scrawny, specky gits like Ronald ruin that." Fred internally prayed he only sounded like a concerned brother._

_Slightly blushing she nodded approvingly. "Of course you're right Fred, but it still hurts." _

"_Well, I'll tell you one thing my brother is," Fred smiled naughtily, "but Granger it's a secret."_

_Hermione nudged Fred playfully, but it was weak. "What?" _

"_He's a-" Fred pulled out his wand just in time for it to poof golden, orange tipped feathers and a loud chicken noise. "We shall call him chickron." _

_Hermione laughed, a real genuine laugh that brought forth different kinds of tears from her eyes. "Fred, you don't mean that."_

"_Oh I'm sorry Granger, you want me to put it in a dictionary so you believe me?" _

_She laughed, refusing Fred's arm as she stood up, taking a feather with her. "Thank you Fred, I should probably go to bed." _

"_Alright Hermione, goodnight." He said, nudging her playfully and heading back into the Great Hall._

_At least he wanted too. Something with brilliant bushy hair dragged him into a tight hug. He sighed into it. _

"_All I ever want is to laugh Fred, thank you."_

_Just as quick as her hug was, that was just how she fled, and with a blink Hermione Granger was gone, with Fred still sighing into the open space. _

"_They love you and then they leave you." He joked, because he absolutely __**refused **__to believe he was falling for Hermione._

"_I vould not count on dat Fredy, you were magnifique! She will be b'ck."_

_Fred laughed, and straightened his tie pulling a solemn face. "I am after all the most attractive Weasley."_

_The beaubaxton girl actually laughed. "Dat iz veery mod'st of yoh love." _

…

…

Fred looked up to Hermione after the glorious, torturous memory, who had suddenly woken up to a tossing George. Quickly, as if possessed, he tried to pick up the feather, and it seemed _easier _then the other objects who would not let something like Fred touch them.  
>His mind began to be racing faster then he was catching up. Earth things would not be touched, but this glorious feather did not belong to Earth like everything that barred him. This feather belonged to Fred, and was his only. Maybe that's why Hermione kept it all this time. <p>

'_This, this is mine.'_

'_NO FRED DON'T-'_

Fred ignored projection-Hermione forcefully, shutting her out. _'This, this is mine.' _Fred repeated with force. He watched as Hermione settled George to a whimpering slumber and began to stare at the bed longingly that he was ready. His fingers were inches away from the feather, and he felt it grow warm, _felt _it. He was ready.

"Hermione." A weak looking Harry rasped from the now open doorway.

The feather slipped through Fred's fingers. _'DAMN IT!'_

"Harry!" Hermione whispered loudly, almost squealing as she ran to Harry, engulfing him in hug, closing the door behind her, forgetting her bed, forgetting George and unknowingly forgetting Fred.

…

…

Fred didn't touch the feather again. He was trapped here, cursing himself for not being quick enough to follow Hermione, who was outside, and he was wasting minuets, almost another hour he could feel it. However, what if he had infinite hours? What if he just wasted his twenty-four hours and stay here. Sure it was hell now, but it would get better. His family would pull through. He could almost be with them, always. He could-

"_FRED WEASLEY DON'T. YOU. DARE. SHUT. ME. OUT. AGAIN!"_

He jumped, and then laughed hollowly. _"Why not?"_

Suddenly he was staring into blazing warm brown eyes. _"BECAUSE YOU GET IDEAS LIKE THIS!"_ She moved away as fast as she came, releasing him from her gaze and she began pacing, her warm white light trailing behind her. "You can't leave me. Don't push me away."

"'_Mione-"_ but before Fred could even start his sentence, she was gone. _'stay with me.' _he finished to her, but he knew she would ignore it.

She reappeared again, flickering happily. "You mean that."

Fred nodded. "You're as close to Hermione as I've got."

A hurt look crossed projection-Hermione's face and then, two things happened, the door burst open with Ron practically yelling Hermione's name, and the second was George's loud reply back.

"Oh Fred." Projection-Hermione whimpered, and she was gone again.

"YOU GIT RONALD YOU SCARED FRED AWAY!"

Ron shook his head, frozen with fear. "That was Hermione I heard, in a light."

Fred scoffed. "Well done mate." Another hour had passed.

**Authors note: Okay! I hope that went well! Thanks for the reviews and Katie for the amazing tumblr asks! Reveiws on here would be amazing, just to know that people like it and are reading it. Oh, poor Fred, I just want the best for him that's all! However, it's torment for him to be where he is, and now he's just tripping over his feet! I hope that's all getting across. Thank you for reading once more.**


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